


Angel

by taskinst



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-31
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-17 11:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taskinst/pseuds/taskinst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He loved to laugh, and god was his laugh beautiful – if you could hear the sight of sparkling water in a glass bottle when shaken, then that was what his laugh sounded like. It was like shimmering crystal: lighting up the dark, sending tingles down my spine, making my toes curl and my heart clench in a strange way that was neither painful nor unpleasant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Boarding school AU whooo :)
> 
> This is also one of my earlier works so it was written when I was still trying to grasp their personalities - so excuse some of the misconceptions, some of the things I wouldn't have done now that I did before. Also this was my first proper attempt at smut way back when. 
> 
> This story switches narrative POV often.

He was slowly driving me insane.

Who would have thought? Zayn Malik – perfect grades with model-like good looks and a bad boy attitude; every girl’s wet dream – going crazy over another boy.

I was barely listening to the teacher explain the deep meaning behind the use of onomatopoeia in the text we were studying. Thoughts of him plagued my mind – so much that the line between fantasy and reality became blurred. It all felt so real in my head and yet I knew it could never happen.

I was Zayn Malik – both a charm and a curse. I never had trouble getting someone to spend the night with – in fact, I often found myself having to devise ways get rid of some of those interested because there were too many. Still, I was a hormonal teenager, so I did what any other teenage boy would do if he were in my position.

And it didn’t help that the object of my wildest fantasies was constantly too close for comfort.

_Too close._

That’s right. Niall Horan, soft blond hair, cerulean blue eyes, owner of the most beautiful fucking smile and the most adorable, infectious laugh in the world… was my roommate.

And I happened to have the world’s biggest, fattest crush on him.  
  


* * *

  
When I first transferred to the private boarding school, I had real trouble fitting in. I guess I just found it difficult to open up to people. But Niall… he was my opposite in every possible way. He was open, friendly, talkative, and constantly had a lot of friends around him. He loved to laugh, and god was his laugh beautiful – if you could hear the sight of sparkling water in a glass bottle when shaken, then that was what his laugh sounded like. It was like shimmering crystal: lighting up the dark, sending tingles down my spine, making my toes curl and my heart clench in a strange way that was neither painful nor unpleasant.

I noticed Niall before I even knew he was my roommate. While I waited for instructions at the reception area of the school on my first day, he had run into the office, panting, bent over and clutching his knees in attempt catch his breath. It would probably be an understatement to say that he caught my eye. At that point in my life, I had rarely ever thought of other boys that way (I was bi-curious so it happened before, but I was _usually_  straight, if you get what I mean). But he was fucking beautiful. Words would never come close to describing him. Him and his soft messy blond hair, his deep ocean blue eyes, and his light complexion that brought about an ever-present rosy blush on his cheeks… It didn’t occur to me at the time that I was going to have it this bad for him.

I couldn’t even remember why he was there at the office that day. Probably some errand he was running for a teacher. But even then, I already made a note to look out for him. That turned out to be easier than I ever expected, because when I opened the door to my dorm room, I couldn’t believe my eyes. There he was, fresh out of the shower, his hair wet, leaning over a chest of drawers dressed in only a pair of grey sweatpants, with a towel around his neck. He seemed to be rummaging through a pile of clothes, probably looking for a shirt to put on. When he noticed me standing with my mouth open stupidly by the door, he looked up from what he was doing and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It was kind of like a half smile – I guess he meant it as a greeting. But it was the most unintentionally sexy smile I have ever seen… and I hadn’t even spoken to him at that point.

Everything about him was unintentional like that. His innocent and youthful appearance screamed an effortless appeal that… he could just be lying in bed with a stupid blush on his face because he was so pale it was like he was always a little pink, and it’d be so fucking cute that it’d be sexual.

Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe it’s just because I’m the one that’s hopelessly infatuated with him – obsessed, even. Some call it love, but I’m not sure if I can accept that.

Sorry I’m such a fucking sap. I need to go sit the fuck down.  
  


* * *

  
You would think I would go on to becoming best buddies with him so I could get close to him and get on with it. But no. First of all, I guess you could say I made the mistake – or not – of getting to know him. He was not only beautiful in appearance, but he was basically a beautiful human being through and through. He was just so fucking sweet, so good-humored, optimistic, happy, excited… Let’s just say there wasn’t a shortage of positive, energetic adjectives to describe him. Upon getting to know him, I just couldn’t… taint him. I knew – I knew he wasn’t an angel by any means, that, at the age of seventeen, and being the beautiful boy he was, he definitely wasn’t a virgin. But the problem wasn’t him. It was me.

Growing up, I was constantly surrounded by admirers. They say I had facial features that resembled that of a model. I guess my constant popularity with girls throughout my early teenage years was the proof of that. I never showed off or anything, but it would be stupid and a waste for a teenage guy like me to not take advantage of the situation. So I guess what I meant to say was I never had a problem getting laid. I was even a hit with guys. It was strange at first, but I experimented, and I wasn’t against it. I never had proper romantic interest in a guy though. That was, before I met Niall.

Here I was: the guy who could basically get anyone. And yet, I couldn’t get  _him_.

Of course, of all the people it could have been, I had to have the biggest crush on the one person I could never be with.

For the first time, I felt like someone was too fucking good for me.  
  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


If I had to describe Zayn with one word, it’d be enigma.

I was the kind of guy who could make friends with anyone. I think it was because I was generally very cheerful and never took part in drama. As a result, no one ever found reasons to pick fights with me – besides, I had enough friends backing me up that there’d be no way to avoid the consequences.

But Zayn was a little different. It wasn’t that he was bad person – because I knew he wasn’t. He constantly had on a mask of indifference that kept people away from him; sometimes, people saw it as a bad attitude. But I knew he was actually a nice guy.

It took a while for us to be able to talk naturally with each other – I was generally pretty adept at that sort of stuff though, so even as he gave me one word replies for every sentence I spoke, I took it lightly and just moved on. But now I could probably be proud to say that we’re probably friends. It was pretty weird to have a roommate that you couldn’t talk to so easily, but it had certainly gotten better now and I feel like we’d become closer.

Zayn was definitely good-looking. Even as I guy, I couldn’t deny that. It might be weird to say this but it was almost like he had a line of girls just waiting to spend the night with him. I guess he was just that good, what with his looks and bad boy image that had girls falling at his feet. I wouldn’t know the exact details, but he usually wouldn’t bring girls back to our room, because he respected my space (see, that was why I knew he was really a nice guy). Around once a week, he would disappear off somewhere during the night, and that was when I knew he was spending the night with someone else.

What was the most amazing about him was that despite his so-called ‘bad attitude’, he was one of the best students in the year. I think the reason why he didn’t have that many friends was because people were jealous of him, and legitimately so, too. Being his roommate, I found that people often asked me about Zayn, wanting to know what he was actually like; wanting to know the negative side of him… they were all looking to bring him down. So of course, I told them that Zayn was a really good guy and a great friend and roommate. The whole thing saddened me because nobody actually went up to Zayn to talk to him, actually get to know him, despite constantly asking  _me_ …

Recently though, I feel like things were changing. I noticed Zayn starting to speak to others a little bit more and open up in social settings. It was strange, walking out of class and spotting him chatting with other guys. He smiled when he saw me and waved, almost shyly, and I waved back before heading off to the next class, not short of stunned. Was he finally trying to fit in?

I had to admit, secretly, that a weird feeling welled up at the pit of my stomach at the sight of Zayn chatting with other guys. Maybe I was just too used to him having only me and a select few others as friends… but I knew I had no right to feel that way. He was free to make as many friends as he wanted and I was happy that he was finally opening up.

There was only one thing that got to me a little. I was never the type of guy to let things bother me because I was generally a pretty carefree person, but damn, it hurt a little bit. I guess I’d just been around the longest for Zayn, and always thought I was his closest friend in school. He never spoke to others much, so I always assumed that eventually he would open up to me and we could become close friends. And I think he had truly opened up to others now… but just not to me. He was expanding his network of friends, but I was slightly surprised by the fact that I wasn’t a part of it.

Maybe I was understating the degree to which I felt hurt, but I really shouldn’t think about it too much, because then I would just end up hurting myself even more. I guess I reacted in a petty manner. I didn’t really mean to but I started speaking to Zayn a little less and spent the time I could have spent in my dorm room, with Liam at his room across the hall. Liam was my best friend, so it wasn’t out of the ordinary or anything and I had lots of fun hanging out with him. But through this, I kind of realized how much time I used to spend with Zayn…

I guess I felt hurt at the fact that he didn’t really seem to want to be friends with me like I wanted to be friends with him because I really liked him, as a friend and as a person. He was quiet, and a good listener who was always free to hear to me ramble on about my day. He never responded much, but sometimes a little smile would tug at the corners of his lips and it would warm my heart, knowing that I put it there.

 

* * *

 

He was driving me up the wall.

Lately, he’d been hanging at our room less and spending a lot more time with Liam. I know Liam was his best friend, but what warranted the sudden change? We used to sit quietly in our room chatting during the night (mostly Niall talking). I loved listening to his voice, so I hardly interjected in case he stopped talking.

It was especially unbearable to me when I would see them between classes with their arms around each other like they were soul mates. I guess they did look really good together, but as far as I knew, Liam had a girlfriend and the relationship between him and Niall wasn’t like that at all. Maybe I was just overthinking things, as usual, but I couldn’t help but feel restless when I see them together. Especially since Niall was spending the time he used to spend with me, with him.

 Tonight was the worst. Liam basically lived down the hall and the walls were thin, so I could actually hear them talking and laughing very clearly. They weren’t exactly being quiet. There it was again, Niall’s beautiful laugh. That beautiful fucking laugh that wasn’t being directed at me right now (but it should be, because last week, Niall would have been here with me, telling me about his day).

I felt a familiar unpleasant feeling wash over me – the unmistakable stabbing pain of jealousy in my heart. I felt it burn up inside me, causing my shoulders to shake angrily. I felt out of control. My feelings were completely out of control. I thought about him every fucking day, and every day, I became more and more frustrated with my feelings, with the fact that I could never have him.

I hated his beauty. I hated his golden smile and the way it made my heart flutter. I hated the sound of his laugh, so infectious, never failing to lift my spirits. I hated the way he nodded or shrugged with a sheepish grin on his face when he didn’t know the answer to something. I hated the way he ran his fingers through his soft blond hair whenever he was stressed out, because it made me wonder what it felt like to run my own fingers through it as he laid with his eyes closed on my lap. I hated the stupid cute face he made when he took photos with his mouth open and his eyes wide, because it made me want to pull him into my arms, bury my face into his neck and never let go. I hated those ridiculous rosy cheeks, and the way his entire face would heat up like a tomato whenever it was too hot or if he was embarrassed, because I often imagined myself leaning in close and placing a kiss on those flushed cheeks. I hated the way his lips moved when he spoke, and he spoke a lot – they were tantalizingly pink, soft, subtle, and when his tongue peeked out to lick his lips, all I ever wanted to do was grab him by the shoulders and close the gap between us.

And most of all, I hated that I loved him.

There was a hollow emptiness in my heart. My feelings for Niall were slowly eating me up. The sound of his laughter from a few rooms down only got louder as my room became a silent graveyard. It haunted me as I sat unmoving on my bed, staring at a blank spot on the white walls. I clutched my own arms and tried to hold myself together, but it wasn’t working. I was falling apart, going crazy. The sound of his voice kept echoing through the walls. It started to replay in my head. I wasn’t even sure if he was actually still talking anymore.

I wasn’t just crushing hard on Niall. I was fucking in love with him.

And he had been distancing himself from me in favor of spending more time with Liam.

Liam.

Not me.

I guess something inside me must have broken at that moment.

 

* * *

 

It was a great night at Liam’s. We joked around and played computer games together for hours before I finally got up and decided to go back to my room. It was close to 2 in the morning now so I figured Zayn must be asleep. Quietly, I opened the door to my room and lightly stepped inside. There wasn’t a single sign of movement or breathing, I thought to myself as I gently shut the door, which was why I nearly screamed when I turned around to find myself face to face with Zayn.

He looked paler than usual and his eyes hollow, as though he hadn’t a soul anymore. I was about to ask him what was wrong (although deep inside my heart, I had a trickling of an idea as to what that answer might be), when I found myself with my back against the wall, staring into Zayn’s deep eyes through his long perfect eyelashes. I was so shocked and confused by our sudden proximity that I was frozen with my eyes wide when he leaned in close enough to my face that our breaths mingled. I could feel his warmth ghosting over my lips, and I became aware of the unfamiliar tingles down my spine.

Suddenly, he was kissing me. His lips were soft as they applied a soft pressure on mine. It was gentle and undemanding. I vaguely wondered why he was kissing me and how I should be reacting. But all of this was fogging up my mind and I couldn’t think straight anymore. I didn’t even realize when I wrapped my arms around Zayn to grip the back of his shirt, pulling him closer. He placed his arms on either side of my head, as though trapping me, not allowing an escape.

What started out as soft, gentle kissing soon became aggressive, and I felt a firm grip on the back of my head pushing me forward to close a non-existent distance between us. This all felt surreal, and only partly because I never thought it would happen. The other part was because it felt so right; like it should have happened ages ago, like we had been waiting for it to happen for a long time. There was a sense of desperation that hung thickly in the air, a desire for each other that was as old as the time that had been waiting to be unleashed. All the while, I felt a strong tugging in my heart – a poignant kind of pain that was at once beautiful and upsetting.

All of these emotions came flooding into my heart, like they had been held up behind a large dam that had burst open, and water was now leaking through the cracks. I didn’t even know where all this had come from, but here I was, a useless mess, melting into my handsome roommate’s touch as he sucked harshly on a sensitive spot on my neck. I wasn’t paying attention, but I would probably be embarrassed if I was, because the sounds that were coming out of my mouth didn’t sound like me at all. I was a shaking mess, panting softly as Zayn ran his hands underneath my shirt, all over my chest, stomach, back.

Momentarily, my mind regained consciousness and my eyes snapped open, only to be welcomed by the sinful sight of my gorgeous roommate licking a path down my stomach. He began pushing my shirt up above my head to try and remove it. I raised my arms to help him, only to realize what I was doing as he threw the shirt across the room. I was now standing against the wall with Zayn before me, eyes wide, confused, shirtless, shivering, and probably with dark hickeys all over my body. He observed me with his intensely sultry dark eyes, as though burning a hole through my soul. I suddenly felt self-conscious, because he was so beautiful, and I was so average compared to him.

I subconsciously began to cover myself up with my arms, turning a little away from him. But he held me by my shoulders and lifted me off the ground. I let out a squeak of surprise as I was carried towards the bed and dropped unceremoniously onto it.

Regaining my sanity, I turned to face Zayn, staring up at him as he climbed over me, trapping me with his arms.

“Zayn, what are you—” I began, finally finding my voice again, but was cut off abruptly.

He held a finger to my lips.

“You’re beautiful,” he said cryptically. “Too beautiful.  I’m sorry.”

And suddenly, he was kissing me again, but this time his hands travelled downwards and fumbled hastily with my zipper. I wanted to break the kiss in protest and ask him what he was doing and why, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I guess in a way, I wanted it too, but I just didn’t know why at that point. I didn’t understand it.

All thoughts were put to a grinding halt when I felt a hand gently stroke me through the thin material of my boxers. I let out a breathy moan and heard the sound echo through the walls of the room.

Zayn chuckled. “Be quiet or you’ll wake the entire building,” he breathed huskily into my ear. I quickly placed my hands over my mouth to muffle out the noise. I watched Zayn with wide eyes as he returned his attention to removing my jeans. With only my thin boxers covering my erection, I felt exposed, like he could see everything now. Even as he already knew I was reacting extremely well to his ministrations before we even ended up on the bed, it was at this moment that everything became official. I enjoyed what he did to me. I wanted it.

 

* * *

 

The sight before me was like a dream. I had to resist the intense urge to pinch myself because I just couldn’t believe it was really happening. Lying beneath me was the beautiful Niall Horan, my ultimate crush, the boy I was in love with, in only his boxers, aroused and with a pretty blush on his face and neck.

He was so amazingly sensitive and reactive to every single touch. So much so that he had his hands firmly over his mouth to try and muffle all the lewd noises he was making. I watched as his baby blue eyes rolled back from my touch, as I gently stroked his shaft through the fabric of his boxers. He looked so innocent and so lecherous at the same time, like a beautiful fallen angel, and I was the source of evil, tainting him, taking away his innocence. If you could paint a picture of the current scene, it would look exactly like that.

It was always like this with Niall; he could be doing nothing much, like just eating a fucking fry, but it would look so sexual. That was probably the reason why he had so many admirers, and he didn’t even know it. Everyone seemed to think that I was the most desired boy in the school, but nobody stopped for a second to remember that everybody loved Niall and, unlike me, he didn’t take advantage of it.

Right now, he was looking like a fucking angel lying on the sheets with his hands over his mouth and his eyes half-lidded and glazed over, just  _feeling_ , and it was the most erotic thing I’d ever laid my eyes on. Not a single one of my past encounters could come close to comparing with the way he looked right now. I didn’t think it would be a stretch to say that I could look at this every day and never get tired of it.

I have it bad.

 

* * *

 

I was so close, so fucking close, and he hadn’t even done anything besides stroke me yet! I still had my boxers on, too. It would be embarrassing and disappointing if I finished so soon. Holding on to that thought, I got ahold of Zayn’s wrist and stopped him from what he was doing. He looked confused for a second, until I removed his hand from my erection and climbed out from underneath him to flip us around.

I got straight to it, pulling off his shirt to reveal his well-defined chest and abs, and then moving on to undo his zipper. The next thing I knew, I had removed his underwear and it was clear what I was about to do. I gulped, having second thoughts about where this was all going, and looked up to meet Zayn’s dark eyes, only to see him staring back at me with a hopeful look on his face.

This wasn’t my first time with a guy, so I wasn’t hesitant because of that. But he was just so beautiful – everything about him was perfect. His face looked like it was a Greek statue carved out of marble. He literally had no flaws. People sometimes told me I was beautiful, but really, had they looked at Zayn? I was hesitant because I never thought this could happen between us. He was too good for me, too perfect, like a god. He might seem cool and closed off a lot of the time, but I knew – at least _I_  knew – that he had the most beautiful laugh in the world. When he laughed, it lit up the room with its beautiful sound. It didn’t happen often, but the few times I managed to make him laugh during one of the many nights we spent talking… I felt something indescribable. It felt like my heart suddenly stopped beating for a second, like butterflies in my stomach. I couldn’t lay a finger on the feeling at the time, but I think it was becoming clear.

I felt as though I reached a state of mind where I was finally at peace with my own raging thoughts and had come full circle from where I started. I think I knew where I stood in all this now. Glancing up at Zayn once more, I gave him a small smile before gripping the base of his cock and going down on him in one swift movement.

He groaned, in surprise and pleasure, and buried his hands in my hair, massaging my scalp and threading his fingers through the blond strands. My head bobbed up and down, slowing down and speeding up at unpredictable intervals. I stopped at one point to place my tongue on the tip of his cock, teasing the slit. Zayn bucked harshly my teasing and I had to react quickly by moving my head to the side to avoid being hit by his leg. He lightly punched my shoulder and I smirked before continuing. At this point, I felt his body begin to tremble and knew he was at his limit. Before I could give him the final touch, however, he pushed me back roughly and flipped our positions so that he was on top of me again. I was still in shock and unable to comprehend the sudden change in dynamics, when he removed my boxers in one swift motion and leaned in close to whisper in my ear.

“Lift your legs,” he said, before proceeding to lay kisses all the way down the side of my face and neck. I felt vaguely embarrassed at having to spread my legs at my own accord – since I fully expected that he would do it if it came down to it – but I complied because I couldn’t resist him. I placed my arms beneath my thighs and lifted my legs up to fold against my body. I didn’t think I could feel more exposed, and felt my entire face and body heat up from the embarrassment. I must be completely pink right now – I hated being so pale.

Zayn tentatively traced a finger over the outline of my entrance, and I felt myself twitch – as if I could get any more embarrassed. He chuckled a little and then paused, flicking his gaze up to my face.

“Do you have anything I could use…” he began. I fully understood what he was referring to and nodded, turning my head to indicate my drawers beside the bed. The dark-haired boy crawled over to the side of the bed and opened the top draw. He rummaged through the items a little before finding what he was looking for and returning to my side. Popping open the cap, he squeezed out a good amount of the clear substance.

“Are you sure?” he said, as though reminding me of what he was about to do. I nodded slowly, and yelped in surprise when he inserted a cold, lubricated finger inside me.

“Ah! You could have warned me!” I said, biting my lip at the intrusive sensation. “That stuff is cold, you know.”

“Sorry,” he said quietly, flashing an apologetic smile at me. Well, damn him and his gorgeous smile – I already forgave him.

Zayn took his time preparing me, gently, slowly, trying not to hurt me, to the point where even I got impatient. I made a whiney noise in protest.

“Zaaaayn, c’mon, I’m fine – AHH!”

Oh, he struck that spot. And I saw white. The scream I let out didn’t sound like me at all.

Smug with the discovery of the location of my prostate, Zayn brushed over the spot over and over again, making me writhe and twist on the sheets, throwing my head back and using the pillow to muffle my voice.

“Fuck! Ah—stop… please, just!” Unable to form a coherent sentence, I gave up and tried my best to stop any more embarrassing sounds from escaping. I must have awoken the entire school by now.

In the midst of everything, I was flipped around with my back towards the ceiling. Resting my head on the bed with my elbows to support my weight, I could see Zayn squeeze out more lube. Everything that happened after was kind of a blur to me. There was lots of screaming, panting, in, out, in, out, ouch, ah, no, faster. I vaguely remember gripping on the sheets way too hard – that probably explained why they were now torn into shreds. But I have no idea how those scratches on Zayn’s back came to be. I didn’t scratch  _that_  hard.

We were both completely exhausted afterwards. It was probably the most intense sex I’d ever had, and I kind of hoped it wouldn’t be the last time. But I didn’t know what was going to happen after this. I actually expected him to discard me and just walk off after we were done – Zayn wasn’t exactly known for forming long-lasting romantic relationships. But to my surprise, he pulled me close and held me against him. I fell asleep with my back against his body, feeling the gentle rhythm his soft breathing as his chest rose and fell.

 

* * *

 

I have to admit, I had a massive panic attack when I woke up to find an angel sleeping in my arms. He might as well have had a halo above his head; he totally looked the part anyway. Niall was still asleep, his head buried against my chest and his body curled up like a child. He looked beyond adorable and perfect on this bright morning, as usual, and I felt dirty.

What have I done?

But then it hit me that Niall had been completely conscious, sober, and willing throughout everything that happened the night before. Yes, I started it, but he didn’t say no, he hadn’t rejected my advances. In fact, he had welcomed them with open arms, reacted enthusiastically to my touch.

And this all meant… that I might have a chance.

I propped my head on my arm and observed Niall as he slept some more. He was truly beautiful. I couldn’t believe he let me… I couldn’t say if I could ever feel good enough for him. But I only had one shot at this, to tell him how I felt about him. If he said no… well, he had been willing – maybe I could make him fall for me?

I was getting ahead of myself, but the thought of Niall possibly having even the slightest interest in me romantically… it was making me giddy. I had to tell him. I had to tell him today. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. At first, I thought my feelings for him were just a phase and it would go away eventually if I didn’t act on it, but how wrong I was. I didn’t even tell him how amazing I thought he was and how much I loved him, before last night.  I regretted having done everything the wrong way round, but I wanted to make up for it. He deserved better.

He deserved so much better.

I needed to tell him.

 

* * *

 

I woke up curled up against something warm – a person. It was comfortable, it felt right. Then it occurred to me that it was Zayn, and all the memories of last night came rushing back. My eyes snapped open and as I looked up, I found myself staring into his dark orbs.

“Zayn?” I croaked in my morning voice. I was surprised that he was still in bed beside me. I had fully expected him to be gone by now, off somewhere, with someone else.

“Niall,” he responded, his eyes not leaving mine.

There was a silence between us before both of us decided to break it at the same time.

“I—”

“Listen—”

“Ah, no, you go first,” I said.

“No, it’s fine, you can go first,” he replied, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

I smiled a little at his shyness – so unlike him last night. “No, you go first,” I repeated.

Silence hung in the air once again as we continued to stare at each other. I watched Zayn’s adam’s apple move as he swallowed.

“Listen…” he slow began. “Niall, I—last night… it—”

“Shhh,” I interjected, placing my hand comfortingly on his shoulder. “It’s fine, you can tell me, I promise I won’t freak out.”

There was a pause before he nodded.

“Iminlovewithyou,” he spat out quickly.

“What?” I reacted, not sure if I heard what I thought I heard.

“I… I’m in love with you, Niall,” he repeated in whisper. He looked about to cry from the confession. And here I was, in pure shock. I thought he was either going to ask me out or tell me it was a mistake, not confess his love for me! But he took my silence as a cue to continue, which I was glad for, because I didn’t have a coherent response.

“I’ve been aware of you since the first day I saw you,” he began again. “I don’t know when this all happened, but as the days went by, I found myself unable to get you out of my head.” Zayn placed a hand on the side of my face and stroked my cheek with his thumb. “Do you even understand how beautiful you are? Everybody loves you. I really hate that it’s you I’m in love with, because you’re too good for me. I hope you know this…”

He trailed off, leaving me speechless. Shaking my head, I held out my arms and pulled him into an embrace. He laid his head on my shoulder as I nuzzled my face into his hair.

“I’m too good for you?” I said in a bewildered tone. “You mean you’re too good for me. You’re perfect, Zayn, you don’t even know.”

“At least I have some conception of the fact that people find me attractive… but you, you just have no idea. You have so many admirers, Niall, and there’s not a single soul that could genuinely dislike you. And you think I’m too good for you?” He shook his head in disbelief. I sighed.

“Let’s not get caught up over this,” I said smoothly, pulling away from him and leaning my face close to his so our foreheads touched. “So… you love me?” I asked, a small smile tugging on the corners of my lips.

“For far too long.”

“Well…” I said, tilting my head a little, my smile widening into a grin. “This is pretty new to me, but I gotta say I don’t want last night to be the last time…”

Watching Zayn’s face light up melted my heart. He just had the most beautiful face on the planet.

“So you’ll give this a chance?” he asked, a sense of excitement overlaying his voice.

I nodded, and he pulled me into a kiss. It was soft and sweet, because we both had a smile on our faces.

“Well, good morning to you too,” I added.

And he laughed.

It was beautiful.

 


End file.
